


Why Samuel hated John

by Tess_Lucetram



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 13:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6909316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tess_Lucetram/pseuds/Tess_Lucetram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title pretty much sums it up. Just a headcanon that's been rattling around in my brain for a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Samuel hated John

Samuel Campbell looked up from his map of possible demon omens as he heard his daughter’s boots thump up the front porch steps.

“Daddy!” She burst through the door and made her way to him at the kitchen table like a one woman Mongol horde. “You’ll never guess what happened today!”

“I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Daddy!” she playfully whined this time. “I met somebody. He’s amazing!”

Samuel’s stomach clenched in dread. His little girl wasn’t ready to meet anybody yet. “Oh yeah? Anybody I know?”

Mary shook her head. “I don’t think so. He just moved back here after being deployed.”

“A soldier, huh?” Samuel approved of this. The knot in his gut loosened a little. A soldier could fight for his girl if it became necessary. “Well, what’s his name, Sweetheart?”

“John,” she sighed. “He’s so dreamy. I’d seen him around town a few times, but never talked to him. It was weird. For some reason, I had this feeling that he’s the one this time.”

“You checked him out thoroughly, right? Salt, silver, holy water, the works?” So sue him. Samuel knew he was over protective, but a guy couldn’t be too careful.

Mary glared at him. “I’m not stupid, you know,” she snapped.

“Don’t take that tone with me. I just want to make sure you’re safe,” he snapped right back. Mary continued to glare. “I’m sorry, Hun. I just worry about you is all.” 

“I know, Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around him from the side. “But you’re still paranoid.”

Samuel snorted, well aware of that fact. “Anyway, what’s this kid’s last name?”

“Winchester,” Mary grinned. “Just like the gun. It’s such a strong name. Don’t you think so? Maybe I’ll be Mary Winchester one of these days.”

The knot in Samuel’s stomach made a sudden comeback. Only this time, it felt like a lead anvil in there. Mary continued on, obliviously.

“He’s so wonderful. I know you’ll love him too. We had lunch in the diner and talked for almost two hours. I want you and Mom to meet him. Can I ask him over for supper?” She finished breathlessly, waiting for his response.

“Sure, Honey,” he heard himself say on autopilot. “But not tonight. Okay? I’ve got to finish up with this omen map; maybe tomorrow.”

“Thanks Daddy!” Mary squealed. “I’ve got to tell Mom. You’re the best!” She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and was gone before he could react.

Samuel groped for the kitchen chair behind him, falling heavily into it. He rested his elbows on the table and his face in his hands. It couldn’t be the same boy, could it?

\---

Lawrence, Kansas 1956

“Henry!” Samuel called, catching sight of the bookish man exiting the drug store. He hurried to catch up. “How’s your whole secret society thing going these days?” Samuel clapped the smaller man on the shoulder and laughed. Henry Winchester pulled away quickly.

“There’s no secret society, Samuel,” Henry denied crisply. Samuel laughed again. “Excuse me, I have to get home. John’s waiting for me.”

“Hey,” Samuel pressed, grabbing the other man’s elbow. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You know that I know, and all that. I don’t want in to your little club, Winchester. But you and I both know what it’s all about. And I can help you get rid of these things. My family has been doing it for years.”

Henry scowled fiercely. “That is precisely the problem, Campbell. You and your family…” he looked around for eavesdroppers and lowered his voice, “…shoot first and ask questions later. That’s not how we operate. So, good evening Samuel. I really do have to get home.” He turned again and began to walk away.

Samuel was stunned by this outright rejection. But he recovered quickly and followed Winchester. “That’s it?” he hissed. “Your little pansy society of librarians wants to question the monsters first? What good can come of that? They’re dangerous. We put them down before they can hurt more people. What’s to know?”

Henry finally stopped again, red in the face. “Samuel,” he began gravely, “there is always more to know. And not all of these so-called monsters are inherently evil. I’ve told you twice and this is the third time. I have to get home. John’ s sick with a cough. The Men of Letters do not require your family’s services now or ever. Good evening!”

“Pansy-ass librarian,” Samuel fumed to himself, watching as Henry’s stride ate up the ground. “Who needs them anyhow?”

\---

Was it possible that this John Winchester was the son of Henry Winchester? John was very common name, even if Winchester wasn’t. Surely, there had to be more than one. What were the odds? Mary seemed so happy, so he’d have to tread lightly or earn both his wife’s and her ire. He’d have to wait until the boy came over for dinner and had a proper talk with him man to man.

Samuel was jerked unceremoniously out of his thoughts by his wife dumping more weather data in front of him.

“You okay?” Deanna asked seriously, taking in his pinched expression.

Samuel wiped his face with the heels of his hands. “Fine,” he grunted. “Just tired and cross-eyed from staring at these damned maps.”

His wife’s brow furrowed in concern. “Need an aspirin or something?”

“I said I’m fine, Deanna.”

“Alright. Well, if you want to suffer, then that’s on you. But dinner’s almost ready. So put these maps away for tonight and wash up.”

Samuel leaned back in his chair. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Deanna smiled at him fondly and kissed the top of his head. “Did Mary tell you her good news?”

Samuel laughed. “She practically broke down the door and shouted it the moment she saw me.”

“I think it’s wonderful. She needs somebody in her life. This John sounds very nice.”

“She didn’t tell me much more than his name and that he’s a former soldier,” Samuel said.

“Well, I found out he’s now a mechanic at the local garage in town. He’s doing good work there and he’s pretty well established already.”

“I don’t know, Deanna. Don’t you think she’s still a little young?”

“Nonsense, Samuel Campbell. Your daughter is nineteen, very nearly twenty. This is the perfect time for her to start her own life.”

“But what about the family business?” Samuel asked seriously.

“Samuel, Mary is free to do what she likes. If she wants to keep hunting, she will, John or no. But you can’t force her.” Deanna left the kitchen after that, presumably to talk to Mary.

Samuel frowned. What if this Winchester was the same John? What if he already knew about the Campbell family business and was just leading Mary on? Or worse, wanted to make her a librarian too. Campbells were hunters. They needed action. He sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands again. He was so not ready for any of this.

The big night finally came around after being postponed a couple more times. Samuel made excuses that he needed to work on hunting research until his wife angrily vetoed his last refusal. Needless to say, he was very unhappy.

John showed up exactly on time with flowers for Mary. Deanna cooed and dragged him into the house.

“I’ll just find a vase for these,” she gushed, taking the bundle. “Why don’t you join Samuel and Mary in the living room?”

John smiled nervously. “Thank you, ma’am,” he responded politely and moved further into the house.

Samuel was watching TV in his favorite arm chair when John entered the room. He looked up, sized up his daughter’s new beau and returned his gaze to the screen.

“Not much to look at, are you?”

“Excuse me, sir?” John fumbled out.

“Oh my God, Daddy!” Mary screeched. “John, I’m so sorry. My father is rude.” She shot Samuel a poisonous glare. “What he meant to say was welcome to our home. Right, Daddy?”

“Sure,” Sam grunted, still absorbed in his program.

John stood in the doorway, feeling wrong footed. His unease was palpable and Mary got up to take his hand. She pulled him along to the couch and made him sit next to her. The awkward silence stretched uncomfortably.

“So,” Samuel finally said, breaking the tension, “you’re a mechanic, are you John?”

“Yes, Sir.” John grinned amiably. “I got a job at a garage in town.”

“And you make a decent living that way?”

“Well, sure,” John hedged. “I mean, I’m not one of the senior mechanics there, so I don’t make as much as them, but it pays pretty well.”

“Well enough to support you and my daughter?”

John blushed bright red. “Uh, we haven’t quite gotten there yet, Sir.”

“So, not a planner then.”

“Daddy, stop it!” Mary demanded. “What is wrong with you?”

“Is it so wrong for me to want to make sure you’re taken care of?” Samuel asked innocently.

Mary said nothing and John stared at the floor between his feet. Samuel continued to watch the television. When Deanna came in to announce that dinner was on the table, she scowled at the obvious tension in the room and knew her husband was to blame.

“Dinner is served,” she announced brightly.

Dinner was an excruciating affair.

“So, John, Mary said you recently moved back here after deployment,” Samuel commented. “Had you lived here long before you shipped out?”

“I was born here, Sir,” John said, happy to move on to safe topics.

“Lived here all your life then?” Samuel continued.

“Most of it. My family moved to Illinois for a few years for my father’s job before we eventually moved back.”

“And your father, what line of work was he in?” This was it, Samuel thought.

“He was a salesman. He travelled for work a lot.”

“He still around?”

John blushed again. “No, Sir. He disappeared one night when I was about five. My mom remarried after we moved back. My stepfather raised me. Taught me cars.”

Samuel raised an eyebrow at that. “What was his name, your old man?”

“Henry, Sir. Henry Winchester. I’d like to change the subject, if you don’t mind. His disappearance is something of a sore spot for me,” John almost begged.

“I do mind,” Samuel said, ignoring the glare he was receiving from his wife. “Who’s to say you won’t run off like your father did? I can’t take that chance with my Mary.”

Mary gasped in shock, almost in tears. John politely wiped his mouth and set his napkin on the table. He turned to Deanna. “Mrs. Campbell, thank you for dinner. It was delicious. Excuse me, but I need to be going. Mary, I’ll see you later.”

No one spoke as John left. When the door shut, Samuel picked up his fork again. “That went well,” he said lightly.

Mary stormed away from the table without answering him. He winced when the door to her room slammed shut.

“What?” he asked his wife, who was still glaring at him. She shook her head and got up from the table too. As she collected the dishes, Samuel could see her almost vibrating in anger.

“I don’t know what all that was about, Samuel Campbell, but you can be sure I won’t tolerate it again,” Deanna growled at him. “John is a very nice, polite young man. The next time he is over for dinner I expect you will have some manners of your own. And you owe your daughter an apology.”

Samuel scowled at the table. “I don’t like him, Deanna. You heard him. His father ran off, never to be seen again. I don’t want that for my daughter. Mary will understand and thank me for it later.”

Deanna slammed the plate she was holding back on the table. “You’re going to make that boy and your daughter pay for something that happened probably fifteen years ago, which neither one of them had anything to do with? I really don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m sure I don’t want to be around it. You should make yourself comfortable on the couch for a while. And you will apologize to Mary for your behavior this evening, or that stay on the couch will be extended indefinitely.”

Samuel could only glare at his wife’s retreating back as she hip-checked the kitchen door angrily. God damned Winchesters. They were going to be the death of him one day.


End file.
